Finally free falling
by SweetAngels123
Summary: "And know this, I will return to you." one-shots
1. Blue Bird l

When Merlin was small he used to run around the house pretending he could fly, because he'd always admired the blue birds outside his bedroom window. He remembers wondering what it was like to truly fly.

.

.

.

.

It happens in the most unlikely way.

That is to say, out of all the ways Merlin had imagined while laying in bed at night staring at the pack he kept packed just in case, of all the ways he had hoped this confrontation could have gone it wasn't this, wasn't Arthur staring at him in what he pinpointed as fear.

And Merlin is cold – so very cold, when he feels steel against his neck.

"_Sorcerer_."

He breathes out and nods his head, his eyes having faded now to their faded blue color. He feels the sword press down harder, cutting off air.

He wonders if his blood will stain the forest floor.

.

.

.

.

Arthur doesn't kill him, doesn't order the knights to do it either. Instead he gathers shackles and twine and ties Merlin to the horses. Merlin doesn't complain because while the cuffs suppress his magic, he's not dead.

The wrongness that the cuffs brought he could deal with, he knew he could; just like he knew that there was a part of him that could break the cuffs with a single thought. But he won't because if he does then how can Arthur trust him?

.

.

.

.

Arthur doesn't throw him in the dungeons instead he is confined to a tower that takes over the cuffs job.

It's the worst kind of torture.

.

.

.

.

Merlin dreams.

He dreams of Morgana's eyes as he gave her the poison, that moment when she realized who had done it, the moment betrayal had been the only thing he could see in her deep eyes. He dreams of what will happen when she is finally caught.

This wild creature who wasn't human anymore, who'd been so consumed by hate, and fear, and betrayal that the once vibrant woman that played with the children in the courtyard was gone replaced with something more monster then woman.

In his dreams, she rages at him, tells him it's all his fault that things had ended the way they had, taunts him with all his mistakes and then she pushes a knife through Arthur's chest, then Merlin's and finally her own.

Merlin wakes up screaming.

.

.

.

.

Once he tries magic.

A simple little thing he'd been doing since he was small and lighting the candles in his bedroom while his mum slept so he could play a bit longer with his favorite toy, a little stuffed dragon that he had always remembered having.

The pain though, is new.

He'd never felt like this, felt like his bones were melting and that everything else was melting along with them, he screams and collapses, hitting his head on the side table and scrapping his knee's on the floor, but that pain is nothing compared to the other pain that makes him feel as if he is being torn apart.

He retches, but there is nothing in his stomach to come up, the guard that brings him meals that are slid through a flap in the door hasn't come in a day and as such he hasn't eaten. It makes it all that more unbearable.

He screams well into the morning but no one comes and when it's over he crawls on his hands and knees to the small pallet where exhausted – he finally sleeps without the nightmares that had become his only friend.

.

.

.

.

He tries to call for Kilgharrah once, but it ends worse than his attempts to light a candle.

.

.

.

.

Sometimes he wonders why no one has come to see him.

He hopes it's just that their forbidden to not that anything has happened to them or that they don't want to see him. He tries to get something out of the guard that has begun to bring him meals again but he doesn't get anything except a scowl.

He hopes that Gaius isn't working too hard, and that someone was helping him because he wasn't as young as he once was and he his joints ached and sometimes his hands shook too much for him to hold a knife steady enough to chop up herbs.

He hopes that Gwen is okay and happy, that she isn't feeling overwhelmed with all the work she has since she was promoted to head servant, he hopes that she has someone to talk to that will sit and listen while she says what she needs to say without interrupting her.

He hopes that Gwaine isn't doing something stupid that will get him thrown in the stocks or tossed from Camelot, he hopes that he too has someone to talk to because the man deserved an ear to hear his troubles.

He hopes that Arthur isn't being too much of a prat to everyone, he hopes that he doesn't see this as to much of a betrayal, he hope that he can overcome his prejudices and see that magic isn't evil only people and he sometimes hopes that Arthur will come and save him

.

.

.

.

Sometimes he also wonders how the man he loves could do this to him.

.

.

.

.

Merlin dreams that they hate him. Dreams that they laugh while he cries, laugh while he screams and finally laugh as he burns.

He wakes up shaking and praying it isn't true.

.

.

.

.

There is a window in Merlin's tower.

It's not big, and they hadn't bothered in adding any shades or bars. But Merlin loves it, it's his only view into a world other than the one he has inside this room – this hellish room. Merlin loves the endless blue of the Camelot summer sky and he loves the clouds that form shapes but most of all –

Most of all Merlin loves the birds.

They're so free, so happy so carefree, they can go anywhere they want and they can talk in their little chirps to anyone. He can't remember that freedom. So one day he finds himself sitting on the ledge, his head bent so as not to hit it on the cold stone.

And the next he get's braver as he watches a bird merely sweep down, a worm in its mouth to feed its lover.

Until one day he jumps, and Merlin who has been caged for too long –

Well, he finally feels free in a way he has never known in all the years that he has lived, and he knows that in that moment, he's - finally, finally - flying.


	2. Blue Bird ll

Arthur never thought he'd be burying Merlin.

But then again he never thought the man would be a sorcerer either. He was wrong about both, he wonders what drove Merlin to jump, he wonders how someone's life could get so bad that they would end it in such a way.

It had taken two days for Merlin to finally die. Two days when Arthur sat in his room until he could no longer stand it and finally his feet took him down to Gaius's chambers to find that he was too late.

A bloody hour too late.

The flames climb higher into the night sky and Arthur thinks he can see a blue colored bird flying. He imagines its Merlin.

**_._**

**_._**

**_._**

**_._**

Hunith was inconsolable for three days, until on the forth she emerged giving him a tired smile and asking that he tell her everything, he isn't surprised when she turns him out that night to the hay loft with a bitter smile.

He takes a fistful of ashes in a small jar with him when he leaves the next morning.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur dreams of Merlin.

He dreams that Merlin is smiling at him, while they are hunting or doing some other meaningless task and he dreams that when Merlin finally tells him about his magic that he, instead of locking him away, gave him a smile and told him it was alright.

He dreams about their bodies entwining in ways that make Arthur blush when he wakes.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Gaius comes to him one night and hands him a leather bound book filled with letters.

He gives Gwen and Gwaine theirs and makes arrangements to send Hunith hers, but he doesn't touch his. It sits in a tiny drawer at his desk gathering dust and being buried under other bits of meaningless clutter

He can't bring himself to read it, he can't. He'd rather wonder then to truly understand.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur didn't cry, he didn't, and he wonders why. What kind of person doesn't cry at something like this?

What kind of person was he?

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

He comes to a decision on a Tuesday. He lifts the ban on magic on a Friday and proposes a festival the following week.

The first to come forth are the druids who give him smiles and wish him the best of luck on his destiny. They call him the Once and Future King and tell him he has their trust.

It's almost the end of festival when a little girl that identifies herself as Emilyn rushes up to him and gives him a flower for Emrys, when he asks her why she smiles a gap tooth grin and tells him it's a thank you for bringing magic back and for saving her last year.

He doesn't have the heart to tell this little child that her Emrys is dead.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur doesn't know when he realized it but he does know that he loved the beautiful boy that saved him time and time again and didn't ask for anything in return.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

He visits Gaius weekly now and the man smiles a bittersweet smile and spins him tales of a boy born with magic who grew up never knowing why he was given these gifts.

He spins tales about how this little boy who chased butterflies made out of fire, grew to become a man who would give anything for a prince. He spins tales about a druid girl and a boy who tried to give his life in the place of another's only to find that things are never that easy.

He tells him tales about the man they called Emrys and how he was the most powerful warlock there ever was, and ever will be.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur comes away each week questioning everything he ever knew.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

He finds it in the corner buried behind the wardrobe while he's searching for a piece of paper.

It's old and faded, and there are places where the fabric is paper thin but it's still the same red that he'd grown used to and didn't know how much he loved until it was gone. He presses it to his nose and when he finds he can barely smell its owner, well it finally strikes him and then –

Only then, does he finally cry.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

.

He takes his handful of ashes to a clearing in the woods where they had once camped and talked well into the morning hours. He stands their staring at the small gray boulders and thinking that they looked so much more vivid back then.

Then finally he opens his hands and watches as the gray dust scattered in the wind. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes and he swears that in that moment he could feel Merlin running his hands through his hair instead of the wind.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur marries Gwen but they both know that their love isn't the kind they would have chosen for themselves if given the choice. Thiers is about shared comfort and practicability.

The love they dreamed about filled with passion and fire is long gone.

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Arthur is on his deathbed when he finally remembers the letter and with shaking fingers he opens it, and throws his head back laughing; he dies like that with the laugh lines still having not faded around his eyes and mouth.

_I love you, you stupid prat.  
_

_Merlin_


	3. Longer Then Forever

Arthur sits in the tiny uncomfortable chair. Merlin had asked him to come along – had half begged – but he wouldn't let him come in the room with him, Arthur shakes his head, Merlin was being paranoid, he'd just lost Gaius.

There was nothing wrong. Nothing. This is nothing but a cold. Nothing. Merlin was being ridiculous. Just ridiculous.

.

.

.

.

Merlin is pale.

He looks frightened.

Arthur finally starts to believe this isn't just nothing.

.

.

.

.

The drive to the hospital is quiet. Utterly quiet. Arthur is almost glad, he didn't think he could deal with Merlin trying to tell him it's going to be alright.

The terrible word Oncologist is stuck in his mind.

.

.

.

.

Leukemia is a worse word then oncologist any day.

.

.

.

.

Arthur holds Merlin tight that night in a way that he hasn't in years.

Since they were young, scared, and so in love that nothing besides each other mattered. He wondered where those two people went. He wondered why he hadn't noticed when they had started to sleep on opposite sides of the bed instead of in the middle wrapped up in each other.

Arthur isn't ashamed to say that he cries into Merlin's soft raven locks as the man slumbered in his arms.

.

.

.

.

"Arthur, go away."

Arthur shakes his head, and kneels down next to Merlin, who is slumped between the toilet and the shower. He shifts the man until he can slide in so that Merlin is leaning against his chest; he wonders why it had to be Merlin.

Arthur ran his hands through Merlin's thinning locks. The sterile hospital white burns his tear filled eyes.

.

.

.

.

_"I can't do this!"_

_"Yeah well I didn't ask you to! I didn't ask you to Arthur! I told you in the beginning I'd understand if you didn't want to stay! You can go, I don't care, it doesn't matter anymore!"_

_"Do you really want me to go Merlin, because then you'll be alone, oh wait you're used to that aren't you! You attract misery!"_

_"Go!"_

Arthur does.

.

.

.

.

Arthur wanders the city. It's big and bright and deafening and he wonders what Merlin would think of it all. He thinks of Merlin trapped in that hospital room and he wonders how he could leave, but he also wonders how he could go back.

.

.

.

.

Arthur wakes up the following morning in his car with a killer hangover and tear tracks on his cheeks.

He drives to the hospital to be met by an empty hospital room and a doctor with a serious face that tells him all that's happened since he left the night before.

He'd thought nothing of Merlin coughing into his ear yesterday except how annoying it was.

.

.

.

.

Merlin looks small. He looks broken too, but Arthur tries to ignore that. The nurses had instructed him that he had five minutes before he would have to leave the room. They'd looked at him with sympathetic smiles and pity and he'd hated it.

He hated this more.

He sits in a chair that's pulled up to the side of the bed and takes Merlin's needleless hand into his own. His skin is pale and he can hear the rattle when he breathes.

How had he left last night?

He'd been told that Merlin had cried himself to sleep only to wake up unable to breath and with a fever, he'd been lucky to have the prescience of mind to press the call button otherwise – the nurse had looked guilty here – he would have probably suffocated.

How had he left Merlin last night when he knew that each moment he had with Merlin was precious.

.

.

.

.

Arthur doesn't believe in god like Merlin does, has never had Merlin's faith that there is something more to this world, but for Merlin?

He prays.

.

.

.

.

Merlin crashes in the middle of the night Arthur – who had been there for his hourly five minute visit – didn't think he would ever forget the sight of that solid red line, nor the sound of that long, final, and utterly horrible, beep that went on, and on, and on.

The doctors don't make him leave after they finally get Merlin stable. Arthur knows what they think, he knows they think Merlin is going to die, that he can't bounce back from this; he knows that they are already counting Merlin as one of the lost.

But they don't know Merlin.

Arthur does.

"Merlin, you need to fight this, you can't leave yet ok? You need to wake up and call me selfish and horrible and a Prat, you can't go yet, it's not your time. Please Merlin fight, you're stronger then this….please….I need you…"

Merlin just lays there.

.

.

.

.

It's a miracle the nurses say. That Merlin's body is fighting again instead of giving up, and shutting down, Arthur doesn't believe in miracles though.

Arthur believes in Merlin.

.

.

.

.

Merlin comes out of the ICU on a Tuesday. Arthur kisses him for the first time in a month as Merlin looks at him like he's never seen him before.

Arthur doesn't care, all that Arthur cares about his here in his arms right now.

.

.

.

.

Two months later, the doctor smiles and utters the five words that Arthur has only dreamed about.

_"Congratulations you're in remission Merlin."_

.

.

.

.

The night Merlin is released from the hospital they make love like they haven't in years.

.

.

.

.

They renew their vows and Arthur doesn't think he has ever seen Merlin look as handsome as he does the day he slides a ring onto his finger for the second time and say's 'i do'.

Merlin's smile that day is something that Arthur thinks he will remember for years to come. He will never forget, he thinks, how important this one creature was to him. He thinks that a miracle is in his arms right now and he thinks no matter how long they live, that he's never letting go again.

.

.

.

.

Arthur stares in horror at the black and blue dots that trail up Merlin's spine as he curls against Arthur's side.

It'd been three years.

This couldn't be happening, not again.

.

.

.

.

Arthur sits next to Merlin as the doctor explains. They'd caught it too late.

Arthur punches the stupid man who can deliver something like this to them with nothing on his face except a sad smile right in the nose. Merlin's outraged cry is lost within the sound of his own harsh breathing and sobbing.

.

.

.

.

"Do you remember - back then?"

Arthur chuckles, Merlin's arms are rapped around his waist and they're wrapped in every blanket they own in the center of their big king size bed. It's something they've been doing more often now and Arthur can't imagine he has anywhere else he'd rather be.

Merlin breathes out and Arthur runs his hands through Merlin's dark hair.

He remembers, he remembers being a teenager that hated Merlin, had bullied him, until one day Merlin looked at him all electric blue eyes and unruly raven hair and Arthur couldn't find it in himself to hate the young man anymore.

"Yeah, i remember."

"Did'a ever think we'd end up here?"

Arthur thinks about ticking clocks and raven haired angels and shakes his head.

"No, never."

Merlin laughs the sound soft and breathy.

"Me neither, Arthur?"

Arthur nuzzles Merlin's shoulder.

"Hmmm?"

"You know i love you forever right?"

And Arthur thinks that he'll love Merlin longer then forever.

"Yeah, me too."

.

.

.

.

Its the next morning that Merlin doesn't wake and Arthur takes a handful of pills to follow Merlin into the unknown.

Perhaps they'll be knights in the next lifetime.


	4. Beautiful, Tragic, Painful Love

The fire burns bright and people cry.

(But the story doesn't start there, it starts before that. Perhaps when a young warlock entered a too big city to see a golden prince that was his destiny and perhaps this ending was always written in the stars, after all history repeats. Why should their story be where it ends?)

.

.

.

.

One day Arthur looks at him, his eyes pained and wet.

"I need an heir. But Guinevere can't give me one Merlin. What do I do?"

His hand is on Merlin's shoulders now and his eyes are pleading, for what Merlin doesn't know. Does he except Merlin to pull a child from thin air, a child with Arthur's eyes and Gwen's hair? What does Arthur want from him?

"You were Gaius's apprentice, out of everyone you'd know. Is there something you can do to help us?"

There is. But Arthur doesn't understand what he was asking. Doesn't know that Merlin will do it without a thought.

_._

_._

_._

_._

Merlin travels under the cover of night and when he does the required ritual he feels dirty. Perhaps it's the fact the one person he cares about most in the world will be happy and relieved and will be able to be a father. But Merlin won't be there to see it.

Whatever the case when Merlin returns to the castle that same night he finds himself falling into a restless sleep where he dreams of a little girl with Merlin's hair and Arthur's eyes, he wakes in the morning bone tired and with a bitter tang in his mouth.

"What have you been doing all night idiot? You look like death it's self!"

Merlin frowns. Not already? Arthur is still looking at him and he can't do it, he can't look into those eyes right now, so he turns and runs.

.

.

.

.

He thinks, maybe there is a reason for that.

.

.

.

.

Merlin understands Nimueh a little better now. He thinks – no knows – that Nimueh always meant for it to be her that went so that Arthur could live, Merlin knows because he was now in her shoes, watching his king love another.

He thinks the only difference is that Merlin was able to let go. Nimueh hadn't understood that with this kind of – _beautiful, tragic, magical_ – love, you had to be willing to sacrifice everything, even your own life.

.

.

.

.

One day Gwen comes to him, the biggest smile on her face, her curls askew, and he thinks she's a lovely image, but not as lovely as the man standing behind her, whose smile is as bright as the sun, and he thinks the golden king is the loveliest thing he's ever seen.

He also thinks he can hear a soft rushing; like sand, his time was now running out, like the sand of a broken hourglass.

.

.

.

.

In the second month Merlin leaves for a week.

He figures now is the best time, the babe is small right now and not draining his life force drastically, and if he waited he didn't think he could fool the eyes of the woman that raised him, and cared for him, and loved him in a world that hated him for his very birth.

He slides into the saddle of a black mare, that although not officially, was his, she was old and tame and when he looked into her eyes he felt a little better, so he whispered everything into her ear as they road, she couldn't talk back but in a way that was better.

When he reaches Ealdor his mother takes one look at him and folds him into her arms.

"What have you done Merlin?"

He should have known better then to try and fool his mother, but then once again he supposes things are better this way, at least he'll be able to say goodbye without having to lie that he'll be back again come spring.

.

.

.

.

In the fourth month, Gwen is beautiful, glowing in the way that all expectant mothers do, while Merlin is growing thinner and paler.

Arthur watches them both with a careful eye.

.

.

.

.

When one night Merlin has to leave the great hall because the smell of the food is making him nauseous in the worst way, Arthur follows him out.

"You are the worst manservant there ever has been, you understand this right Merlin?"

Merlin merely nods his eyes on his feet; he can't look at Arthur right now. He's terrified that Arthur will know everything if he sees the look he knew now resided in his eyes. Arthur sighs and Merlin feels a hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong with you Merlin? This isn't you."

Merlin can feel it all on his tongue, the secrets he's kept all these years, the sacrifice he was making, but Merlin isn't going to tell, he can't now, he won't now, so he just shakes his head and mumbles, and Arthur sighs again before drawing Merlin's head up with his hand.

"I'm worried about you, Merlin, you're not yourself, you're getting thinner, I know you must miss Gaius but was his time to go, and you must comfort yourself in knowing that."

Merlin almost laughs at how gullible Arthur was at times; he wished just once that Arthur could see what was really happening right in front of him. He knows it makes him sound like a hypocrite, but just as much as he never wants Arthur to know, there is a part of him that wishes just as fiercely that he did.

.

.

.

.

Gwen is six months pregnant now and Merlin is losing control of his magic.

He's terrified. But he knows that at least the child was strong, his magic would make sure of that, there is comfort in that, still he wonders what will happen when he's powerless, in a way he has never been, he wonders what it will be like when he can't feel the earth beneath his feet.

.

.

.

.

In three weeks time he knows.

.

.

.

.

"You have magic?"

Arthur comes to him at dawn of the first week of Gwen's seventh month. If Arthur had been a week earlier the answer would have been yes, but he can't go back in time and so he shakes his head no, while his eyes stare at the floor.

"Don't lie to me Merlin."

"I'm not."

Arthur looks angry and hateful and his hand clutches at the sword resting at his hip.

"You are, because Merlin after all these years I have finally figured it out. All those odd victories, all those time when I should have lost but won all the little things that I just brushed off? They were all you."

"And I would be okay with it, if you weren't turning be into my father."

Merlin looked up then, his neck snapping so fast and hard that it hurt. Arthur draws his sword and puts it at Merlin's neck, the sharp edge drawing a tiny stream of blood. Arthur is all but growling at him now and Merlin can't understand.

" – I want you to get rid of the spell Merlin! A child is not worth Gwen's life, I will not lose my queen, and I will not let history repeat, get rid of the spell and I'll let you live."

Merlin laughs and Arthur pushes down harder. The tip digs in harder.

"You're evil."

"Sorry Arthur, but it's just funny, it's not Gwen Arthur, you won't lose her, you'll always have her. I made sure of that."

"Then who did you sacrifice Merlin, who? I know this kind of spell needs a sacrifice, who?!"

Merlin closes his eyes and waits. Arthur shakes his head and backs away then.

"You're a monster Merlin."

.

.

.

.

Alone in a cell, Merlin cries.

.

.

.

.

Gwen comes once and opens the cell with a brass key, she kneels next to him awkwardly, her stomach making it difficult, but she pays it no mind and instead pulls him into her arms, her tears wetting his hair with tiny salty drops.

Nothing is said but it's enough.

.

.

.

.

Then one day Merlin wakes up screaming because his body felt like it was on fire.

.

.

.

.

Arthur is holding Gwen's hand as she screams at a contraction when the guard comes. He looks nervous and Arthur has enough presence of mind to be surprised. It's one of the guards that he knew was posted outside of Merlin's cell.

"The prisoner – there is something – you should come with us My Lord. We don't know what to do."

Gwen looks at him.

"You need to go Arthur; I'll live through this, but Merlin? Well, Arthur you need to go."

Arthur almost screams when it finally makes sense.

.

.

.

.

Merlin doesn't know how long he's lain here but he knows he lost the energy to scream a long time ago and he knows that the people he's seeing in the corner of his cell can't be real. He actually misses the maddening numbness, anything is better than this hell.

He thinks it's crazy that the only person he wants right now is Arthur. He looks up when he feels a hand on his forehead.

It's Arthur as if here by magic Merlin no longer possesses and Merlin is surprised because in the time he's been in this cell he hasn't seen Arthur at all. That was the worst part of it all he thinks. He could deal with hatred but he couldn't deal with being ignored and forgotten.

"A'thur?"

Arthur winces at the sound of Merlin's voice.

"You're an idiot Merlin. You were going to die without telling me weren't you?"

Merlin actually laughs.

"That was the plan; you should be with Gwen."

Arthur shakes his head and pulls Merlin into his lap, his head resting on Arthur's thighs; he cards his hands through Merlin's hair, the once soft strands now brittle in his fingers. He wonders why he ever thought it was possible that Merlin would sacrifice anyone else but himself.

The noble idiot.

When he speaks it's through a throat that's almost closed up with tears.

"She's fine Merlin, right now, my place is here. God Merlin, you didn't have to do this, I would have figured something out, I would have named one of your children heir even, just why did it have to be you?"

Merlin doesn't answer for a long time, can't because if he does then he'll be revealing things that he has hidden for so long that – but then another blast of fire sets his nerves on fire and dots of black dance before his eyes and he knows his time is growing near.

"Arthur – " he screams " – Arthur, there would have been no children, it was you. It was always you, and I couldn't – "

Arthur sobs and the black dot's are bigger now and he feels so tired –

"You need to go, I - Arthur go see your babe – "

The last thing Merlin see's before his eyes close is Arthur's face, shiny with tears, his last thought is that his golden king is the most beautiful last sight there is to see in the world.

* * *

_**A/N: God, what is it about these two that makes me want to write angst and then go into a corner, curl up into a ball, and cry?**_


	5. The Second Time Around

He's lonely when he sees her again.

It's been centuries, centuries since Camelot fell and with it the Golden King – centuries since her death at his hands, for centuries he'd been alone and now he thinks it's cruel to throw her back into the mix because he'd never been able to get over it, even back then.

He pulls his scarf tighter around his neck and stuff's his hands in his pockets.

He'd forget, that's what he told himself.

_._

_._

_._

_(But he's never been able to forget, not ever….)_

_._

_._

_._

He bumps into her literally the next day. Up close she's just as he remembered, except she's not because his last memory of her was her face contorted in rage as he struck her down, now she's as she was when they first met, all green eyes and curls and beautiful smiles.

She's staring at him now and he backs up a step because it almost physically hurts to be this close to her again.

"I'm sorry, you okay?"

She just stares up at him.

.

_._

_._

_(He justifies inviting her for coffee as a onetime thing, as an apology, they can go their separate ways afterwards, he'll forget her, he tells himself ….)_

_._

_._

_._

They're sitting at a table and she's sipping at a hot chocolate, something he'd never grown to like and he's drinking a cup of black coffee, they're looking at each other until she finally cocks an eyebrow at him.

It's painstakingly familiar.

"I'm Merlin."

"You said that already, but I'll bite – "she smiles at him "– I'm Morgan."

She's smiling at him in a way he hasn't seen in so long, and he smiles back.

_._

_._

_._

_(When he tells a joke and she laughs, he tells himself he'll forget how good it felt)_

_._

_._

_._

He doesn't know why he's doing this to himself. She's utterly wrong for him. Always has been, except she wasn't, not once, and perhaps not now. It's snowing right now in a way that's right out of a cheesy romance novel, and their sitting on a bench, and he thinks that this is a good moment. A beautiful one actually, she's bringing something back that he didn't know he missed. Didn't know he could miss.

"Merlin, do you believe in fate? Destiny?"

He catches his breath at the look in her eyes.

"It depends, I suppose. Why?"

She throws her curls behind her and then places a white clad hand over his. She smiles at him and brushes her hand against his cheek, he thinks she's going to kiss him for one moment and he prays that she doesn't because it will hurt – but he also prays she does because she's bringing something back that he thought long gone.

His heart.

"I just, I feel like I've always known you, I feel like – are you sure, positive, that we never met before?"

He catches his breath and shakes his head, he couldn't lie to her.

_._

_._

_._

_(He wonders if he'll ever forget that moment when she brought his knuckles to her lips and kissed them, but he knows he won't, he can't forget, not ever...)_

_._

_._

_._

She learns of his skills on the piano and is instantly enchanted. She says she's always watched people play but had never been able to learn. She asks him to play something for her and he can't refuse, he would give her anything if she looked at him with that same pleading look.

He plays and melodies dance in his head in ways they haven't in years.

.

.

.

(_They've been dead, but like winter turning to spring she's bringing it back.)_

.

.

.

Morgan orders him to be her date for the winter formal. He doesn't complain, especially when he learns the theme, and when she complains that she has nothing to wear he smiles and takes her back to his flat where he thought she would find what she was looking for.

"Merlin – what are you – are those - ?" She fingers one of the dresses he'd rescued after the fall of Camelot; it's hers, one of the ones that had lain untouched in her wardrobe for years after her departure.

She steps back and takes it all in, in the far corner of the closet was a pile of armor and a flowing red cape, there were four dresses, ornate garments that looked old but well preserved, one green, one red, and two purple ones.

"Merlin, why do you have these?"

"I'm something of a – let's just say I've had these for as long as I can remember, their kind of like family heirlooms."

Her fingertips linger on the green dress and he smiles at her.

"You can borrow one or two of the dresses if you like, I don't mind as long as you're careful."

She grins at him.

"Really?"

He nods and is almost knocked off his feet as she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in an excited hug.

"Thank you Merlin."

He smiles slightly and dips his head his nose is nestled in her hair before bringing his arms up around her.

"You don't have to thank me Morgan."

.

.

.

_(He doesn't think he'll ever tire of the feeling of her in his arms.)_

_._

_._

_._

He meets the golden king again for the first time when Morgana introduces him as her step brother Arthur (George in this life – and wasn't that laughable?) and introduced Gwen (Sarah Marie) as his fiancée. Merlin for his part finally starts to believe that this time around they could make it.

.

.

.

_(And isn't that a wonderful thought? To know that he doesn't have to forget, because he can't, but perhaps they can build something great this time. Together. )_

.

.

.

Merlin thought his heart stopped as she descended those stairs. All around him woman and men danced and just like before she knew how to make an entrance. She was beautiful in a way that he had seen only a few times, and always on the darkness to his light.

He smiled at her and took her hand as the cool silk slid behind her in an emerald green trail.

It felt like a beginning.

.

.

.

_(And what a beautiful beginning it is…)_

_._

_._

_._

He can't sleep. He's been tinkering at the piano for the last two hours trying to – write something, but the melodies keep getting mixed up in his mind and it's frustrating and all he can think about is the black headed spit fire that he hadn't heard from in over a week.

He slams his fist down on the keys and they make an awful screech, he lays his head in his hands and groans.

The doorbell rings. He frowns – it's three in the morning, but none the less rises from the bench and opens the door. It's her, she's dressed in yellow and she's been crying. He frowns deeper but steps out of the way and lets her in.

She paces a few steps and he shuts the door. She rounds on him then.

"Something's been happening to me. I – I didn't know who else to come to…"

She wraps her arms around herself.

"What do you mean?"

She frowns and raises her hand and a vase on the other side of the room lifts off the table and falls to the ground. Her eyes had been golden and Merlin's heart sank because of course she would have magic, she was Morgana, the sorceress that had been both feared and revered for doing what no one else would.

She was –

She was –

He didn't know all he knew was that she was staring at him now and he knew he had to tread carefully otherwise he might just end up screwing this up for the second time.

"Why did you come to me?"

"Because – you are – _you_ and – I don't _know_, I just – "

She stops short because his eyes have flashed gold and the vase has reassembled. There he'd done it, perhaps now things wouldn't end up like before.

"Yo-you too?"

He nodded.

"I'm not a freak?"

He shook his head then and stepped forward pulling her roughly to his chest.

"_No_ Morgan, no, _never_…"

_._

_._

_._

_(He wondered why his chest began to feel so much better – not as tight – whenever she was near.)_

_._

_._

_._

They stay up talking well into the morning curled up on the couch sharing an old ratty blanket, there's a hole near his knee that's letting all the heat out and another near his feet but there is a head on his thigh and he finds that he doesn't care all that much.

"Do you know why we're like this?"

She's playing with a piece of thread idly circling it around her ring finger and then around her thumb and pinky, he finds the sight more distracting then he should and it takes him a moment to register what she said.

"I – yes."

She looks up then.

"Will you tell me?"

He pauses and then –

"It depends, do you believe – do you believe in reincarnation? Do you believe in magic?"

She shakes her head but then stops and looks at him, a hesitate smile creeping onto her ruby lips.

"No – no I don't but, but I think I'm beginning to."

He smiles.

_._

_._

_._

_(Perhaps this is a good thing, perhaps its destinies way of making up for the way the tale ended in another time.)_

_._

_._

_._

They're at his sunny little table where the vase sits filled with lavender roses. He'd made eggs, and they'd been slowly picking at their late breakfasts. She smile and looks at him for a moment before she sat her fork down and turned her full attention to him.

"So how old are you exactly?"

"Ummm honestly? I don't know, a few centuries? I've lost count."

She gapes at him before a sly grin creeps onto her face.

"So I take it you've learned a lot of – techniques? You know since you've lived _so_ long." He chokes and blushes to the roots of his hair. She laughs and punches his arm before her face sobers and she opened her ruby lips to ask another question.

"You've mentioned reincarnation, you've mentioned Camelot, you've mentioned that George was a king named Arthur– something I still can't believe – and that Sarah was his queen, you've even told me about a dragon but you haven't told me who I was."

He frowns and his face pinches.

"You were Morgana."

"But – "

He held a hand up.

"You were Morgana, you were a sorceress and a seer, you were – you died violently and I – I'm sorry – and at one ti – you were our friend. You believed that you had to do what you believed was right and damn the consequences and you were – you were a great woman – "

He wasn't aware that his voice had risen until she finally placed a hand on his arm.

"Okay, Merlin, okay."

He smiled slightly.

"You're something else, you know that, right?"

In response her eyes flashed and a lavender rose danced in the air before settling back down in the vase with the sound of tiny tinkering bells. He laughed.

_._

_._

_._

_(He wonders when he began to need someone again.)_

_._

_._

_._

They make love that night in a bed of green and blue silks and later after their spent she curls up against his chest and sleeps, flesh to flesh, he could feel her heart beat and he wonders what he did to deserve this again. He remembers a night years ago in a forest the night before a great battle and he frowns.

Things would be different.

She mutters something in her sleep and her knee slips up against his thigh at an awkward angle, it's uncomfortable but he wouldn't trade it for the world. He kisses her head and smiles, he whispers her name.

"Morgana, Morgana Pendragon…my Morgana…"

He sighs then and drifts to sleep.

_._

_._

_._

_(It's one of the best in years.)_

_._

_._

_._

He wakes to teary and betrayed eyes that glitter like two twin peridot's. She's sitting up the blankets pooling in her lap and she's still naked and he can't seem to focus, he's confused and groggy and he tries to pull her back down and into his arms but she flinches away and glares at him, it's so familiar and startlingly painful that he is suddenly wide awake.

"Morgan?"

"My name isn't _Morgan_, its _Morgana_, but you know that don't you, _Emrys_?"

His heart sinks because he hadn't told her, why _would_ he? He hadn't heard the name in years and he knew that the legends didn't mention it anymore, and he really hadn't cared for it – well _ever_, he hadn't liked it and now –

She remembered and was saying it like – like that, and he remembered why he hated it so much.

"Morgana – "

"No – _just_ don't, you see Merlin, I had a dream, an interesting dream – you thought I wouldn't remember didn't you? Well I did and _Merlin_ – _Emrys_ – whoever the _hell_ you are, I remembered. You poisoned me."

"Morgana – "

She held up a hand.

"But that's not all, you killed me – "

"Morgana – Morgan, that was centuries ago and you – you were threatening to kill – and I'm sorry, it kills me and I know you must hate me, but I'm sorry, I'm sorry and I love you, I really do, I loved you then, and I do no – "

She's sobbing now.

"No, _no_ Merlin, I _can't_ do this – _don_'t do this to me, _please_, I loved you then and you killed me, I told you that I would be back and to stay and after I was done we could have the quiet life we had onl – but you left and you fought and you _killed_ me, and I'm sorry but I can't do this, whatever we had, whatever this _was_ and _is_, it's _over_."

"Morgan – "

"Don't!"

She screams and Merlin flinches.

"Just don't, I'm sorry Merlin, but I'm not going to be hurt again, this is goodbye, it's over."

She stands then still sobbing and gathers her clothes and throws them on before disappearing through the doorway and out of his life for the second time. He just stares off into space with something like loss etched across his face.

_._

_._

_._

_(He doesn't move for three days.)_

_._

_._

_._

He's at a wedding when he sees her again. It's been close to a year now and he finds that the longing hasn't disappeared like he thought it did. Gwen and Arthur are dancing their first dance to a song that he finds only to appropriate for them – after all theirs was a love that crossed centuries.

All around couples whirl in dresses and suits and he and Morgana are one of the only few still seated. She's beautiful and regal, her wild curls swept up into a bun and a dress of fine silver adorning her figure.

He loves her, he knows, and he also knows that he can't let the last time truly be the last time; if it was to be a goodbye forever then he didn't want one like that. He doesn't really notice that he's moved until he's standing in front of her and she's staring up at him.

"A dance, my lady?"

She doesn't smile.

"I do not think that – "

"Morgana, please."

She sighs and takes his hand, he doesn't smile when he leads her out onto the floor and into a waltz but then neither does she, and the dance is tense and yet comfortable for all the wrong reasons. She stares up at him as the song changes into something much more intense and she raises an eyebrow almost in challenge.

He takes it of course.

They whirl across the floor and Merlin is reminded of the ball all those months ago when things were innocent and just beginning, back then neither of them knew what was going to come next and were just flushed with the joy of being together.

He wonders how one tiny spit fire woman has the power to make him loose all his sense and become what he swore he would never be again.

Finally the song ends and they – both breathless, gravitate to a table that's far from the floor and the happy couples. They sit but don't talk until Merlin can no longer stand it and he has to break the silence before he goes mad.

"Morgana – "

"Don't speak."

"I have to – "

"I said don't speak."

"Damn it listen to me!"

She's silent. He sighs.

"I'm surprised to see you here; I thought you hated Arthur and Guinevere."

She stiffens and frowns, before she glares at him.

"Don't bring them into this Merlin. This isn't about them."

"Didn't you wish them dead? Didn't you hate them; didn't their happiness and their ruling Camelot ruin you? Didn't you hate them?"

"Stop it!" Then quieter. "Please just stop it."

He sighs and they lapse into silence.

"You know we're not the same people we were then, don't you?"

She doesn't look up.

"Back then – back then we never could have what we wanted, we had a destiny that had to be fulfilled and things couldn't be – what we – what I wanted. And I'm sorry about that but you were always there, the darkness to my light the hatred to my love – except when you weren't and that was worse."

"I cared about you then – and – " he stops, "Morgana do you remember, the last thing I said to you."

She doesn't look up but she nods.

"You told me it was for my own good, but how – how could my death be what's best?"

He sighs.

"Once I knew a woman who was brave and compassionate and fought for what she believed in, that woman would have hated the monster that took her place."

She looked up then, her eyes wet.

"You – you really believe that, don't you?"

He strokes her cheek.

"I don't know what I believe anymore, but I do know I believe in you – and I believe in me, and I believe that we could do this, it doesn't have to be like this, we could find another way, history doesn't have to repeat."

And the reply she had in another life is on the tip of her tongue but she finds she doesn't want to say it.

"You hurt me, Merlin, you really did."

"I know, and I'm sorry."

"But I hurt you too."

She lay's her hand over his.

"I know – "

"But – I agree, I'm not the same girl and you're not the same boy, time has made us wiser and I – I really do love you."

"I love you too."

And in the background,, the music soured.

.

_._

_._

_I have died everyday_

_Waiting for you_

_Darlin' don't be afraid,_

_I have loved you for a_

_Thousand years_

_I'll love you for a_

_Thousand more_

_And all along I believed_

_I would find you_

_Time has brought_

_Your heart to me_

_I have loved you for a_

_Thousand years_

_I'll love you for a_

_Thousand more_

_(Five years later they danced to the same song at their own wedding.)_

_._

_._

_._

_This is the story of a boy and a girl, united through time and through magic, in a way that has never been seen before and –_

_Never will be seen again._

* * *

___**A/N Not what i usually write but after seeing a fabulous video a few weeks back by the same name as the chapter title (link should be on my profile) i had to write this. Lavender roses in the Victorian Flower Language mean love at first sight, or enchantment and the peridot stone is a yelowish-green jewel that is one of the birth stones for the month of August.**_


	6. Black, Black, World

People wrote books.

They wrote books about a king they never knew and call him the best there has ever been, he finds it ironic that in the end, after it all, all Arthur had ever wanted had came true, he was remembered. But none of it was the _true _story of the golden king.

They don't know about crooked smiles and dying breaths, they don't know how a spoiled boy became a beautiful man that led a kingdom that adored him, as he did them. They don't know about unicorns and guilt or beasts and fiery deaths to restore balance. They don't _know_, and they _never_ will.

Human life is fleeting and he's seen countries rise and fall and empires of gold crumble to dust and he's dined with kings and he's seen them dead and gone as well. He'd seen things that disgusted and wondered him.

He'd seen war and blood and pain. But he'd seen joy and love and beauty and though the good never quite outweighed the bad the world wasn't bleak.

He was lonely and he would always miss Guinevere and his mum and Gaius and Kilgharrah and Aithusa and Gwaine and Lancelot and _yes_ - even Morgana and Mordred and so many more, and _always, always, always_ Arthur. But he is glad for the time with them, ridiculously grateful of it, these people took a boy and turned him into a man and they made him feel more fiercely then he ever thought possible, and even if he never see's them again, he will still _see _them.

He see's Guinevere in a waitress that takes extra time to ask the old man what made him into the man he is. He see's Gaius in a doctor that goes the extra mile for her patients regardless of money. He see's killagarrah in old eyes in young bodies, and he see's Aithusa in children lost too soon.

He see's Morgana - as she was when she was young and beautiful and before hate and fear took root - in every being that sought what was right, not caring what society thought, and he see's Mordred in every misguided youth.

He see's Lancelot and Gwaine in every loyal and kind idiot that stays and never leaves no matter how you push, no matter what you do, and he see's his mother in adoring smiles and ones that drip pride like golden honey.

And he see's Arthur, god, he see's Arthur _everywhere_, he see's ghosts of him in every space and it would be _torturous_, if it weren't for the fact that he _never_ wants to _forget_ the golden king.

He see's Arthur in golden boys that grow up to fast and don't let it make them bitter. He see's him in every man he has ever loved through the centuries that could never compare to the original, he see's him in the hearts of those good people that still love and trust in a broken world, and he see's him in every great leader that just wants _peace_, nothing more, something so simple, and yet, so _unattainable_. He sees his Arthur everywhere.

And he knows, he knows that King Arthur never did die. He, like Merlin, is immortal. Perhaps his body is long ago ash at the bottom of a lake, or perhaps he merely rests, perhaps he looked like he did the day he died, perhaps he sleeps until he's needed again. But regardless, Arthur's love and the things he believed in have weathered the test of time, they have not died and with them he lives too.

And perhaps, Arthur will never come back, because he created such a great legacy the first time that he's not needed, and perhaps his red dragons words had only been meant to sooth, or perhaps they were true. But regardless Merlin prays that whatever has kept him alive for so long, dies, before such a dark world comes to pass, perhaps because of this he will never see Arthur again and perhaps it's selfish of him but -

But Merlin, never wants to live in a world where honesty, loyalty, bravery, and above all else love has left the world, he never wants to see a day when Arthur, and all he fought for, is forgotten to the tests of time. He will never want to live to see a world that had given its self over to power and hate and greed.

That would truly be a _black_ world. An _empty_ world. A World where the light is lost _forever_. A world he wants no part of.


	7. The Long Way Around

_Once upon a time there was a great kingdom, and like all great kingdoms there was a king and a queen. _

_A king and queen that wanted a child so badly that when the queens womb remained empty for three summers and three winters they sought out a beautiful sorceress that resided in their court as a friend of the king._

_She agreed and placed a spell not knowing that it would cost the king his wife and when the babe was born, and the price discovered, the king flew into a rage and chased the magical people from the land and convinced all he could of the evils magic brings. _

_One man he chased away took shelter in a small village and bred a child out of love and magic with a young milk maid that took him in and loved him dearly. however the man was forced to flee, and the milk maid, alone, bore and raised a magical boy with eyes like precious gems and the name of a great bird, a child with a great destiny, that fell and intertwined with that of the Once and Future King. _

_A child that would turn a boy into a man, an ass into a friend, and a prince into a great king._

_But that is a tale of long ago, one forgotten with the twists and folds of time and lost to more poplar stories. Today in a rush and tumble world were people don't see magic and have forgotten how it feels to be close to the earth._

_And yet in this same world, a man with the name of a bird still waits for the king of his story to return to him._

_Until one day he does._

* * *

It's the one thousand one hundred and twenty ninth year and Merlin, dispute taking on his true form today feels every bit his age. London is freezing and rainy and with the cold comes an ache deep in his bones that he knows is not purely psychological. But he has things to do, and '_Even Foster_' has a shop to open.

He regrets thinking it was a good idea to open a used bookstore near a university campus because not only does he have to open at an ungodly hour but he has to close at one too.

Not to mention that the students are giant prats.

He sighs and rummages around inside his pockets for his keys and roughly pulls off one glove so that he can get a proper grip and shove it in the lock. After three try's the door still doesn't click open.

Stupid old thing.

He pushes a small amount of magic out through his finger tips and the door swings open to isles of books that are contained in a blessed 70 degree Fahrenheit room.

Shuffling inside he shuts the door tightly and hits the lights before switching the sign on the door to OPEN. He mutters to himself and slides into the chair behind the check out counter, pulling an old and coffee stained book that had come in missing its front coveritems back cover and the title page( he couldn't sell it, and he didn't know why someone thought he could) out from under the table, he flipped to the first page and begins to read.

_King Arthur was the noblest of all men, a man who fought for what he believed in and died for it as well. His name has been whispered and spoke of with reverence and he has gone down in history as one of the best of men. He is, as he has always been, the king of all kings who ruled over a land that was, just like he, golden in the sunlight. A man who -_

He tosses the book across the room and it lands with a thud against the wall. He hates this, he hates when people speak or even write of Arthur as if they actually knew him, hates how the legends have butchered their tale and made it seem so untrue, hates how Gaius and the little people who were no less important have been forgotten and how the character of people he had known were bastardized.

He hates how he's the only one left who would remember how it really was.

How simpler things would have been if he had died long ago, had begun to fade with the sun that set over Camelot, the golden kingdom, for the final time and had been gone by the sunrise over the rumble of a kingdom lost to conquest.

How simpler things would be If he could even die.

But if he could then who would be here for the golden king when he returns?

_If he returns_, Merlin thinks standing and picking up the book and tossing it into the trash where it belongs. He feels guilty doubting both Kilgharrah and Arthur, but it's been so long, and he's seen such terrible things that he can't help but think that if Arthur was needed then he would have come back by now.

_And truly_, he thinks, _Arthur would be lost in this world while being simultaneously disgusted by what people have become while he has been away. This is a world that is made for the cowardly not the brave and the deceitful not the honest, Arthur would hate it here and perhaps it is kinder to let him sleep then to bring him back into such a world._

But then why was Merlin still here? He didn't want to be, had tried not to be here more than once until finally he stopped trying. He has no explanation for he fact that he hasn't aged a day since his king fell except that magic and fate and destiny are cruel masters.

He yawns and pillows his head in his hands and closes his weary eyelids. Just for a moment, he thinks, for a moment he'll rest and if memories come then so be it, he'll deal with them.

* * *

He wakes from a blissfully dreamless sleep to the tinkering of the bell above the door. He sighs and sits up straight, each of the vertebrae in his spine clinking together. The first customer of the day, probably a student looking for sparknotes, of which he has none.

He sighs.

"Hello, welcome to _Todays Yesterday's: Used Boostore,_ I'm Even, is there something I can help you with?"

The man lowered his umbrella and looked up and -

_Oh, oh_, well _shit_, he knew that face. And of course Arthur would come back _now_ - because it was Arthur he could feel it in the way his magic came alive - of course he would come back when after _so_ long, only after Merlin begins to doubt him.

Insufferable, _lovely_, prat.

"Errr is there something on my face? Even was it?"

Arthurs comment snapped him back to reality and he shook his head once, twice, trying to clear the cobwebs that had suddenly taken root in his brain. He strode out from behind the counter his arms halfway raised into a hug before he realized what he was doing and let them fall to his sides awkwardly.

"What can I help you with?"

"I was wondering if you had any sparknotes?"

He sighs and inwardly shakes his head because it was so - so Arthur, apparently death hadn't been enough to stop him from trying to get out of writing and reading. A wonderful king he may have been, but he preferred action, he'd rather do battle than read about it in a book.

"Sorry, no . Stipulation of setting up shop so close to campus, no selling students anything they can use to get out of reading it themselves."

Arthur's face colored. "I read! I just didn't understand all of it!"

Merlin laughed and then laughed again at the look of pure outrage on Arthur's face, it reminded him of quips on hunting trips and the way idiot became not an insult, but a term of endearment ,and it felt more genuine than any laugh that had escaped from him in generations.

"Okay. Okay. What are you reading!"

"The Once and Future King by T. H. White."

_Oh_, Merlin thought, _how ironic._

"I've read it." A lie, but Arthur didn't need to know that, he'd find a copy tonight and read it. He'd hate it, but he'd read it. "What are you struggling with?"

Arthur groans.

"Everything. From the way it's written down to what the fish in the pond symbolizes." And then, in a purely Arthur move he continued. "Not that I usually have problems with the assigned reading, it's just - there is something about this book. It just rubs me the wrong way."

_Perhaps_, Merlin thinks, _perhaps it's not about wanting to take action over sitting and reading about the actions of others, perhaps it's because that book got it all wrong, and somewhere in there is the king I love, and he would have hated the way the truth has been forgotten_. It's that kind of thought that gives him hope and even though dark days are coming, he has his king now, and they would be ready.

* * *

They're sitting in the green with fish and chips and a open book out in front of them.

Its been three weeks since they started these sessions, meeting everyday after Arthur's classes, and Merlin was learning this new Arthur, and was finding that while, no matter how different they may be, his king of years past and this new modern king, were still the same. His new Arthur still valued the same things and he was still a bit too cocky and he was still far to beautiful with crocked teeth and golden hair that glinted in the sunlight.

_This_ was his king. _This_ was his destiny. _This_ was why he was still here, why he waited so _long_. For this moment because Arthur _laughing_, Arthur _smiling_, Arthur _alive_, these were things he thought he might not ever see again.

"Do you think King Arthur truly lived?"

Merlin's breath catches, and he wonders If this is the moment he'll remember, if this is the moment when the last puzzle piece falls into place, but no, he doesn't see anything but the curiousness of a new friend wanting his opinion. He almost sighs and pastes a thoughtful look on his face, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yes, I do believe he did."

Arthur looks at him for a moment.

"Good. Glad I'm not the only one."

* * *

_This is what Merlin remembers._

_He remembers Gwen's tears and he remembers Arthur's hands in his hair. He remembers Gwen's acceptance and he remembers love and sleeping within a bed of furs, and he remembers the warmth and the promises that he and Gwen made as they both kissed one of Arthur's hands. Because for this man between them, they agreed, for this man they would both do anything, because that is what love is._

_Because the legends got more than one thing wrong, because the tragic love was never really Gwen and Lancelot ( the shade did not count, the real Lancelot had been far too noble) Or Gwen and Arthur. Nor was it really tragic, not in the beginning anyway, the real story is between the most powerful warlock ever born, the High Queen, and the man they both loved. The tragedy is that they had to live without him, she until her death, and he, for centuries with Arthur's thank you ringing in his ears and all the memories that haunted him at night._

_But this time, Merlin thinks as he watches a dark haired mocha skinned girl flint and fly around Arthur, this time he doesn't want to share with her, perhaps the centuries have made him selfish, but this time he wants his king for himself._

* * *

"What do you think of Emma?"

They're lounging in the shade of a tall oak, on a hot summer day, their arms and legs spread eagle in the plush grass.

Its been almost a year and a half since the bookshop meeting and Arthur still remembered nothing about their shared pasts, Merlin's not sure how to feel about that, he's not sure if he wants Arthur to remember at all, Arthur's previous life had not always been a happy one, and he didn't think he wanted him to have to relive that.

And yet a selfish, less logical, part of him that seemed to grow each day did because then he could have his Arthur back. He sighed and glanced over at the man beside him from the corner of his eye before rolling over and pulling a blade of grass out of the ground and beginning to shred it.

"Even?"

"Hmm? sorry. I think that she's a nice girl. She's smart too, it's hard to get into Collinsville on scholarship. Incredibly difficult."

"You did, before you graduated three years ago. You're an idiot"

Ah yes, that paper trail had been a pain in the arse.

"An idiot who graduated top of his class."

Arthur rolls his eyes. They fall back into silence then until Merlin looks over.

"Why'd you want to know what I think of her?"

"Because, you're double dating with us this weekend. Which reminds me, find yourself a date."

* * *

It had been a disaster from the start and it had only gotten worse as the night progressed.

He had a headache, he hadn't been able to find a date and so he felt like a third wheel and Gwen and Arthur were being nauseatingly cute, completely oblivious to everything around him, it curdled his stomach and suddenly the small dimly lit room was far to small and his tie far to tightly.

"I'll be right back."

Not waiting for a reply he pushed back his chair and half walked half stumbled out the front door. Once out in the night air he felt less stifled and he slowly breathed in and out before sliding down the side of the building, cradling his head in his hands he kneaded his temples sending short bursts of magic into his head until the pain came down from sky high to manageable.

He _couldn't_ do this. He _couldn't_. He wanted Arthur to remember so badly. He didn't care if it was _selfish_, he didn't care that perhaps there was a reason he hadn't remembered yet, that Arthur might not be supposed to remember the life when he was a king. Didn't have to, not to complete the goal he was brought back to accomplish. He just wanted his Arthur.

The one that had loved him.

_And if he couldn't have that man_, he thought shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket and starting to walk after shoving himself roughly of the ground, _then he couldn't stay. _

He'd run before, set up protective spells and ones to alert him to any danger, then it had been the lake because he'd thought that was were Arthur's return would happen, but he could just as easily cast them on Arthur himself. Arthur was a year away from getting his degree in law and he knew he would be great, do great things, but Merlin wasn't needed for this. He could protect Arthur from afar just as we'll as he could here.

And as if sensing his mood then, the sky's opened up letting down a steady downpour of rain.

"Even! Even!"

He didn't look back, refused to, and sped up, and suddenly he was being grabbed by the shoulders and spun around to stare into blue, blue eyes that reminded Merlin of waves in the tropics, light and beautiful.

"_Hey_! Where are you going?"

He looked down and didn't look up and tried to shove the mans hands off of his shoulders until finally he gave a final lurch and the man let go.

"Go back to your date Arthur."

"Fine. let's go."

Arthur turned and walked a few paces and when he didn't hear Merlin's footfalls behind him he spun around and for a moment Merlin saw chainmail and red clothe over Arthur's suit and _god it hurt._

"I'm not coming Arthur."

A statement, simple, he could do this and because he was still staring down at the pavement he let his eyes flare gold in the night as he cast three protection spells and two separate ones that should get him to Arthur if he was ever in serious danger.

"You want to go home? Why didn't you just ask? Emma wouldn't have minded."

Merlin laughed and it was tinged with hysteria.

"Emma is why I'm leaving."

Arthur took a step foreword but Merlin jerked back.

"No, no! Don't touch me, just - just go back to her, I'll be fine."

"Tell me what's wrong Even."

And that was it, Merlin looked up his eyes still gold and stared Arthur right in the eyes.

"_Everything! Everything's_ wrong, Arthur! You don't remember _me_, you don't remember your _home_, you don't remember _how far we came back then_ and it hurts! And I can't _do_ it, Gwen was lovely then, and is lovely now, but I won't _share_! I won't share _you_ with Guinevere, not this time. I waited so long, Arthur,_ so long_!"

Arthur threw his hands up into the air.

"What are you even talking about!"

"Exactly, you stupid royal prat!"

"Even!"

"That's not even my _name_!"

Arthur swallows. "Than what _is_?"

Merlin opens his eyes and turns around magic already building.

"My name? It's Merlin, my king."

And then he closed his eyes and when he opened them and found himself in his apartment down the block from his shop. Closing his eyes and shedding his sopping wet suit he falls into bed, tears sparkling like faded gems on his eyelashes.

* * *

He wakes to furious pounding on his door, stumbling out of bed he slid a bathrobe on and half walked to the door fully intending to tell whoever it was to go the _fuck_ away so he can sleep until he's feeling a bit less sorry for himself and then arrange everything. Perhaps Ireland this time.

He flung the door open and blinked before attempting to shut it.

But before he got the chance Arthur grabbed it and didn't let go. Figuring he had nothing else to lose he let his eyes flare gold, hoping to startle the insufferable, beautiful man enough that he could get the door shut, but Arthur leveled him with a steady gaze.

"Hello _Merl_in."

Merlin's eyes widened, the way he said it was -

"Arthur. Let go of my door."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. Your not running from me Merlin. I wanted you to always be you, this isn't you, you don't run. Don't start now."

It takes a minute for it to sink in but then; "Arthur?" And it was filled with so much hope that the smirk on Arthur's face softened to that of a smile that Merlin remembered from long ago.

"Yeah."

And then Merlin kissed him. And when they pulled away from each other, they both laughed, low and husky, echoing from red kiss swollen lips.

"We have a lot to talk about."

Another kiss.

"We do, later."

Another kiss, this time more slow and lingering.

"I won't share you."

A smile.

"I'm not going to make you. Guinevere will find someone else."

Merlin grinned and leaned in for a long and filthy kiss.


	8. The Raven, The Dove, and The Sparrow

He hates it.

Hates that this boy from out of no where can be an exception to a rule that ever since she left for the neither world has been nothing but true. Hates that he makes the very king doubt himself.

It would be easy to kill the boy. To reveal his knowledge and to restrain Arthur long enough for an axe to bear the final judgement. But where would that leave his son?

He'd made a mistake, he'd admit it, he should have seen the magic before he offered the boy to his son, because now separating the prince and the servant is next to impossible. It would leave a scar, a scar that is equal, or dare he say it, greater, then the one he bears in the shape of her name.

He'd seen that kind of devotion only twice, in the way Igraine had looked at him and in the way Nimueh had looked at Igraine (and what a screwed up bunch of people they'd been then, but they'd been happy before the fallout) and each time it had ended in tragedy. It would wreck his son and he couldn't wish that, wouldn't wish that.

And if he saw another Raven headed sorcerer in overlay, and if he saw another lionhearted blonde-almost white headed being in the place of his son as they walk through the courtyard bickering? Well, no one would know.

Let the boy be for now, let him protect Arthur, let him think he's safe, but should he make a move to devastate his son like Nimueh did to him, should he make a move to betray Arthur, then there will be no mercy.

And if when the boy looks at him with barely restrained fear and sadness, if it aches with the reminder of someone he once thought to be his best friend? He won't let it stop him, wont let it still his hand, he can't let a sentiment to someone long gone stop him from protecting what's his, what's Igraine's.

They were a twisted fairy tale and the king slept uneasily each night the two woman of his life dancing before his eyes. Dove and Raven, each beautiful, each happy, each carefree, unaware of what life had in store for them. Unaware of how they would fall apart.

Yes, the king slept uneasily except when he joined them, brown with a speckled breast in the fields and forests. Then, he was happy, unaware that in his sleep, he smiled, making him look less like the aged monarch he was, and more like the man the raven and the dove had known.


	9. Hero and Villain (But Gray In Between)

_**Everyones the hero of their own story. **_

_**- unknown -**_

"No. The time for all this bloodshed is over, I blame myself for what you've become, but this has to end. Morgana...this has to end."

She laughs, Merlin, no Emrys, is so gullible! As if a mortal blade could touch her now, as if these mortal blades could kill her, she is magic just as much as Emrys is, she can feel it in him and she wonders how she could be so blind to it before.

Merlin the betrayer of friend and kin alike.

But...Merlin the loyal. Loyal to everyone he shouldn't have been because of the gold fire that ran through his veins from the moment of his birth, Merlin the loyal but also Merlin the betrayer, perhaps Merlin the hypocrite is the most accurate title.

"I'm a high priestess, no mortal blades can defeat me."

She feels the blade sink into her stomach and knows something is wrong because the fire should not be there, she should be healing but she's not and she has the presence to wonder why before she knows before he tells her. She had not been the only one with dragon friends and she is surprised with the lack of bitterness that though brings.

"This is no mortal blade, like yours it was forged in a dragons breath."

She is dying and for a moment she sees how it should have been. If Merlin had chosen to tell her about the spell then she would have drunk the poison freely, and he in turn would have healed her, revealing himself to her. She would have never known Uther as her father but she would be there as his ward at his death where he would tell her that she had been like a daughter to him.

She would have stood beside Arthur and chanted Long Live the King with Merlin and after Merlin revealed himself to the court and was banished she would have created a red and white rose from thin air and glared at Arthur one eyebrow raised daring him to do the same to her.

The ban would have been gone in three weeks and Merlin back in another. She would have married the roguish knight she'd just tortured and she'd -

She'd have been happy in a golden kingdom without a throne.

She wants to laugh but she can't breath, this is how things should have gone but Merlin hadn't said a thing and now here they were years later and she thinks that it wasn't all her fault, it's his fault too, and now he was losing the golden king because of what he'd done to her. She wants to find some kind of pleasure in that but she can't.

Merlin had started the process of changing her and they can't go back now. She can't go back to being that girl and he can't be that naive sweet boy and Arthur can't be that prince. They'd made there beds and they would lie in them away from the golden future that should have been.

And Morgana Pendragon, high priestess of the old religion with all her bitterness and hatred and fear regrets the part she has plaid if only a little bit because in her girlhood days she'd never wanted to be the villain.

But that would be how she was remembered.

Morgana the mad.

Morgana the hated

Morgana the traitor.

She wouldn't be remembered as Morgana the seer, Morgana the righteous, Morgana the passionate, morgana the kind, Morgana the wise, Morgana the beautiful.

Morgana the traitor would be the role she played in the end of the golden king. When their story was told children - magical and not - would hate her.

And she and Merlin could both be blamed for that.

"Goodbye Morgana."

Morgana Pendragon breathed her last thinking of the golden kingdom that should have been, the one she should have been a part of.


	10. In the Future (The World is Beautiful)

Part of the 200 prompt challenge.

1/200

sooooo tell me what you think! Is it crap or not?

* * *

Merlin sits by the window in his tiny apartment that looked out over the city. There's cheap wine at his feet and he idly twirls some around in a glass watching incandescent rainbows dance through the glass before landing on the wall in complex patterns.

The city is alive tonight, noise filtering up through the open window. People singing and dancing in the streets, while couples kiss and neck and embrace as if the world is about to collapse in around their feet if they don't get enough of each other in these two few moments that remain for them.

People are happy and for once, he thinks that they aren't worrying about the past but thinking of the future something he hasn't done in so long that he wonders what it's like not to be living in that time long ago with kings and queens and monsters and knights and dragons.

But tonight all of London looks foreword to a new year, with eager smiles and kiss swollen lips. They look to the future and perhaps Merlin should do the same.

In the future, Merlin thinks, in the future maybe things will be better. Maybe then it won't hurt so much, maybe then it won't feel like he's dying when he see's a streak of blonde and blue and hears a distinct laugh, maybe he'll stop looking everywhere for what he's lost.

Maybe the next time Morgana comes back he won't have to kill her. Maybe this time she'll be less mad and more like the sad strong girl that he knew so long ago, maybe they can be friends in the way they haven't been since her first incarnation.

Maybe Gwen won't be alone and maybe her and Lancelot can have their happily ever after, the one that been denied to them time and time again.

Maybe, he thinks, maybe this will be the year that the world realizes war is never the answer and peace will be achieved. Maybe this is the year that the mocha skinned girl down the hall will get the job she's been denied because of the skin that rests on muscle and bone.

Perhaps this is the year that love will be stronger then hate and bravery stronger then fear. Perhaps this is the year when the values that used to mean everything will be remembered.

Or perhaps this is the year the golden king returns to show the world how it's done. Maybe it's the year of reunions, of prats and magic, of honor and dignity. Of love and friendship. Maybe it's the year that he won't be alone anymore.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six..."

He tilts the glass to his lips, the bubbly liquid burning his throat on the way down.

"...Five...four...three...two..."

He smiles.

"...one!"

Happy new year world, he thinks, and may you learn from your mistakes. And then he thinks about a time long ago in a cold castle with a warm prince and he prays that maybe this is the year of reunions after all.


	11. Cancer Smancer (Together We're Infinite)

The fluorescent light and the white of the walls burned his eyes and made him want to wince.

Except -

Except to do that he'd have to stop glaring at Arthur and that was non negotiable, no matter how pathetic and pity inducing the man looked curled between the toilet and the sink.

"Were you ever going to tell me, Arthur? I had to find out that from fucking Leon who accused me of leaving you here alone! Accused me of breaking up with you because of this! Here's the thing Arthur. I didn't know you were even here! Why was that, Arthur?"

"S'not a good time Merlin..."

Merlin raked his hands through his hair. No it probably wasn't a good time, but was there any good time to find out something like this? He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to reign in the fiery beast that seemed to have taken up residence in his gut.

"When did you find out, Arthur? Before or after?"

The man looked up listlessly and then sighed.

"What do you want me to say? You know the answer."

"I want you to say it! And then - then tell me why - why you would hide something like this from me?"

Arthur sighed.

"Before - I found out before. The day before I met you in the cafe."

Merlin sighed and sunk down to the floor his feet splayed out in front of him, his head buried in his hands, looking odd and out of place in his dark suit and skinny green and silver tie with that ridiculous dragon clip that Arthur had bought him for his birthday last year.

He looked wrecked and when he spoke next it was in a voice that was small and confused, and so unbearably young sounding that it hurt Arthur to hear it.

"Why? Why did you believe that breaking up with me was the answer?" He lowered his face, his chin hitting his chest, black curls sprayed messily across his forehead. "Did you really think so little of me as to believe that I would leave you over this? Or, did you not lie, do you really not love me anymore?"

Arthur groaned and sat up until he was leaning against the wall, his pajama clad legs brushing up against Merlin's', hands finding each other, their palms sweaty and slick and warm against each others.

"I lied, m'sorry. I couldn't be a burden, refused to be, your carrier is just taking off and i - i just couldn't."

"Arthur...you're not - oh Arthur..."

He brushed his knuckles against Arthur's face, the man's skin clammy and slightly warm. Eyes blue as ever and in that moment Merlin wanted nothing more than to kiss him, kiss him and right this nightmare that they'd found themselves in.

"Arthur, you're no burden, i could never think of you like that."

Arthur scooted closer then until they were hip to hip and Arthur pulled Merlin's head down until it rested on his shoulder. It was quiet and Merlin took the moment to run his hands through Arthur's locks and to kiss his forehead, while the snake of fear and the dragon of fury calmed and dissipated back to the depths they came from.

Finally Arthur sighed and nuzzled his face into Merlin's neck, any tension that had remained gone, leaving him slack limbed and yawning and feeling a little less like death and more death warmed over.

"You alright?"

Arthur hummed in response and Merlin chuckled.

"Come on, Arthur. Lets get you back to bed."

Arthur frowned and shook his head while burying his face deeper into Merlin's shoulder. The idiot smelled nice, like shampoo and axe deodorant and something spicy, almost like Mexican food and - and he smelt like home.

He only realizes Merlin's speaking when he feels the rumble of his voice against his cheek. He hummed again and shifted until he was laying his head in Merlin's lap, his face buried in the cloth againat the dark haired mans stomach.

"Come on Arthur. Bed. Even a hospital bed is better than the floor. Come on up."

"M'sick. Feel sick."

Merlin's quiet for a moment but he doesn't stop running his hands through Arthur's hair, nails bitten down to the stub massaging his scalp, making him more tired then before, something that shouldn't be physically possible.

He hummed and Merlin begins to speak again.

"What that weird shaped bucket thing is for. What they probably told you to use in the first place. Come on, bed. If you don't get up now I'll carry you, neither of our backs need to spend the night on the floor."

"You can't carry me. You're too - too tiny."

Arthur groaned then and climbed to his feet and when he wobbled Merlin quickly ducked under his arm and Arthur melted into his side. The two stumbled out of the bathroom and Merlin pulled back the scratchy white blanket while Arthur climbed in before smoothing it down across the other mans' body.

Merlin was already turning, already making plans to hunt down coffee and cataloging who he needed to call when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, the hold weak but steady and warm.

"Stay."

Something inside Merlin melts.

"Okay," Because he doesn't need coffee that much, and he could make calls after Arthur fell asleep. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere, Arthur."

Arthur hummed, the sound soft with sleep and curled up on his side, his eyes closed.

"M'sorry for lying. You'll stay with me?"

Somehow Merlin knows they're not talking about the night he was already planning on spending in the little hard plastic chair.

"Cancer swancer. We're Arthur and Merlin, nothing can separate us. I won't leave because you tried to be noble. You're stuck with me for a long time coming. Deal with it."

Arthur chuckles and slides closer to the edge of the bed, the sheets rustling with his every movement until there is a spot big enough for Merlin to slide into.

"Just hold me?"

Merlin does.


	12. Ashes to Ashes, We All Fall Down

_prompt: destroy_

_prompt number: 3/200_

_word count: 559_

_a/n: so, errr I promise you someday I will write something happy! But until then...well, yeah._

* * *

Merlin can taste the ash in the air long after the fires have gone out. He can feel the heat though he wasn't there. But - but He _should_ have been there. Should have been there for Gwen for Leon, for the people he'd left thirty years ago.

He's done it again. It's Arthur all over again, except this time he'd destroyed something else, something that was almost as beautiful as the golden king had been - the kings legacy. A legacy that Merlin should have been safe guarding.

But he'd fled and he'd ran. For thirty years he'd ran from everything, from Gwen, from Camelot, from the Druids, from his once home, but most of all from the memories, soft and gilded and beautiful. He'd hidden himself away like a common criminal and now look where it gotten him?

Look where it gotten Camelot. The great city that he'd been amazed of at first sight, the one that became his home, the one that gave him friends and happiness, the one that gave him his king - Arthur's home, his legacy was nothing but smoking rubble.

It was all gone, he'd been to late once again and now it was all gone. Merlin choked on a sob as he stared at the destroyed citadel he'd done it again and now it was all gone, everything, everyone was gone.

He'd never be able to forgive himself for this. Not this - never this. Because once upon a time - before the golden kings death, when this place had still represented safety and love - this hollowed ground had been his home too.

And now it was all rubble and smoking wood. Everyone - gone, dead. No survivors.

And suddenly he's angry, fury bubbling beneath his skin like molten magma, ready to burst into an explosion of red and orange. The colors of destruction. Because how dare these common criminals - these savages - how dare they destroy the last thing Merlin had had to hold onto.

And Merlin - Merlin throws his head back and roars in a way he hasn't in so long, magic pulses from him in thick golden waves as he hits his knee's, his head thrown back, tears streaming from his eyes in the way he swore they never would again.

Because damn them! Damn them all, damn - damn himself! How could this happen? How could he let this happen?

He screams once again and the very earth seems to shake with the force of his rage, with the force of his agony.

Tree's fall and flowers and weeds and the grass wilt. Wilt down into piles of black only to spring back to life once again shooting up into the air until they covered the ruined skyline.

Covered Merlin's mistakes. Covered the destroyed city in a blanket of green life until where Camelot once stood there was only a large hill. Completely unremarkable and devoid of former glory.

Merlin panted and sobbed. No one would be able to find it again. No one would be able to hurt Camelot, not again. Never again, because better to have it buried then to have someone else rule the city that was Arthur's.

He sobbed and laid himself down upon the soft grass, dug his nails into the hollowed ground and slept, silent tears still flowing.


	13. Bittersweet Memory (Playing in my Head)

_A/n word count:379 _

_prompt bittersweet_

_3/200_

* * *

Sometimes he'll look back at himself, twenty years ago, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty and he'll remember how desperate he felt to see his king again. How he'd been thinking of how to escape, everything - and to sleep. Just sleep.

How he'd begun to forget his mothers hair, Gaius's wise eyes, the way Gwen wrinkled her nose. Arthur's voice. The jokes, everything, having faded like stone under the ocean waves, leaving behind nothing but cold remains.

How he'd thought that any happiness in the world was gone.

And he'll think about how much time has changed him once again. He'll want to find a way to go back and tell himself that Arthur would be back, that it would hurt him to see the scars. That he just had to stay strong a little longer. Just a little more time before all is right again.

Because, he knows it's okay now, because Arthur is here, because he still has dimples in only one cheek. Still has eyes that remind Merlin of the sea calm and beautiful and deadly and dark. Still trusted Merlin - still loved Merlin.

And perhaps, perhaps if his younger self wasn't wandering blindly, wasn't lost and broken, then he could -

"What are you thinking about, idiot? You look like your in pain over there."

Merlin looked up from his knees and turned his head to find Arthur staring at him, Arthur who is beautiful in sweats and no shirt with a days stubble on his chin and creeping up his face like vines of golden ivy.

"You, me. I couldn't see us here - together again thirty years ago. I thought I'd never see you again, you prat, it was horrible. I thought that after the lake dried up there was no chance you'd ever return."

Something ticks in Arthurs jaw and he frowns as he grabs Merlin by the wrists, thumbs massaging scars, his eyes on the ones that his shirt covers.

"I did."

"I know."

"I'm not leaving you. Not again, Merlin. I promise."

"Thank you."

Arthur nods and kisses the crown of Merlin's head and Merlin snuggles himself into the warm space between Arthur's stomach and chest. He smiles and kisses the soft skin there, fingers playing with sparse blonde curls.


	14. Love

_Prompt: love_

_prompt #: 5/200_

_word count: 529_

_I'm not sure if I like this but I'm being brave and posting anyway._

* * *

"Stop pacing, Arthur."

The king grunted and walked around Merlin, resuming his attempt create a hole in the floor. Merlin sighed, Arthur couldn't afford to be like this today, and Merlin couldn't deal with this today.

Today Arthur and Gwen wed. Today Camelot gained a queen.

And Merlin was happy. Or at least he wanted to be, but there was something in him that whispered that there is love, and then, there is _love_. And Merlin worried that this would end badly because there was always a part of him whispering that this wedding was one of settling, not one out of true love.

Oh, of course Arthur loved Gwen, and Gwen him, it was in the way he'd changed when she was gone and it was in the softening of her mocha eyes when she looked at him. But it wasn't the kind of love that was born of fire and passion and it wasn't fierce.

And that was ok, it was _ok_ and Arthur would do well with a love that was warm and comforting not fiery and passionate. He would do well and so would Camelot. Gwen would be a good queen, the kind that would rule fairly.

The kind that would heal the wounds of the past.

He knew he was worrying over nothing but, still - no, no. They'd lost much in the last year and he couldn't bring himself to question a good thing any longer. His job now was to rid the king of his nerves.

"Arthur!"

Arthur stopped and turned and something changed in his face. Less manic, more cautious, more reserved.

"Am I making a mistake? Tell me I'm not making a mistake!"

Merlin swallowed any doubt remaining then, because this was Arthur, and Arthur needed him and so he couldn't doubt.

"Do you love her?"

"What?"

"Guinevere. Do you love her?"

"I'm marrying her! Of course I love her! Just not - "

"Then what are you asking me Arthur?"

Arthur stared at him a moment blue meeting blue, there is something there and Arthur's lips part as if he's about to say something, something that Merlin both dreads and yearns for in the same breath to the extent that it hurts.

Burns really.

His lips start to form the syllables but Merlin shakes his head and Arthur lowers his, before raising it with a nod. Arthur swallows, and Merlin's eyes follow the movement before he too nods.

Nothing is said as Merlin dresses his king, his eyes never straying from the floor.

_(Centuries later he will still be regretting this moment because he knows like he has known since his king lay in his arms, dying, and asking to be held in the same breath. Knows that Arthur would have given it up if Merlin asked, it tastes sour on his tongue to think of all the wasted time, all the things they'd never do. All the words unspoken. And he waits, he will always wait, till the end of time if it comes to it)._

There is love, and then, there is _love_.


	15. Like Father, Like Daughter

_A/n: I will never tire of exploring the Uther Morgana dynamic, because they are so alike and yet polar opposites. They're both brilliantly crafted characters, they have their reasons for the decisions they've made - they're not just split second decisions - and whether we like them or not, they're meant to make us feel emotion. And they do, Or at least for me they do._

_Prompt: hate_

_number:6/200_

_Word count:830_

* * *

Uther watched her.

He couldn't stop her. Couldn't do anything to help her. His penance, the ultimate punishment for someone with his temperate, to be able to see, but never touch the world that he'd left behind.

And his oldest…..

He'd made so many mistakes with her. Starting with not claiming her as his own from the start, but Gorlois – he'd loved her, he'd seen him with her and he couldn't have taken her from him. Morgana had been the apple of his eye, an active child who was always smiling, and then Uther hadn't sent reinforcements soon enough and Gorlois – he was gone, and Morgana was parentless.

And he had a decision to make.

He remembered her, that day, she'd been left in the estate with a nanny for the duration of Gorlois's deployment, and had managed to give the woman the slip, she'd been sitting on the lake shore, her skirts spread out around her – sharpening a stick for a doll with blonde curls dressed in royal blue and gold, the Le Fay colors.

"Morgana?"

The child startled and whirled, black curls swinging, she stared at him out of a face as pale as snow with bright green eyes.

"Papa – my Papa, he isn't coming back, is he?"

She'd been ten and he couldn't leave her.

So he'd taken her.

Morgana had adjusted to castle life quickly and he'd watched her bloom, and as she aged, sword fighting in delicate lace dresses, he'd seen so much of her mother in her. Vivienne had been a childhood friend, a pale dark beauty, a curious child who had always been fond of dark alleys and black cats.

But she'd been kind and strong willed, and she shared Morgana's ideas of right and wrong and sometimes he saw another in Morgana's place as he sometimes saw a reflection of the past in Arthur's hair and eyes.

Morgana's idea of right and wrong. He thinks that's where he went wrong with her, this child that wanted everything to be fair and just, who fiercely opposed his laws - laws he was serving penance for.

(Blood stains don't wash away just because you didn't commit the act with your own hands).

And she fought him every step of the way, and yet, beyond the flashy jewels and gauzy dresses he gave her, besides the fact they fought nearly daily, he'd cared what happened to her, had loved her, as he had thought she did him.

She was his first born and whether he could acknowledge her or not, he'd looked at her with pride on his lips and wonder in his eyes, because look how big she's gotten, how smart, how mature, how beautiful, when yesterday it seemed she was a child barely on the cusp of adulthood, but look at her now! Look at her!

But then -

He doesn't know if he can blame the magic anymore. He thinks fear, he thinks loneliness, and he thinks grief is what really changed her. His daughter was a sorcerer and he didn't know what he would do if he'd have discovered this before her coup before she'd left and was safe, far away.

But he knows one thing, he could never have killed her. Not Morgana. Never her.

But she'd lived with fear that she'd be killed, and she'd let it turn into hate. She was very like her father in this way. Fear is a powerful motivator, if you want an animal to run fast, you give it something to fear.

A cruel truth, but a true one all the same.

And now, his beautiful daughter thirsted for blood, looking for justice for those he's killed and those that were still dying, magic was feared, he'd sought to make it that way, and oh, how he regretted it. If only because if she had nothing to fear then she would perhaps still be the compassionate woman playing tag and stick wars with the towns children.

And she was feared, Morgana the tyrant, Morgana The Last High Priestess, Morgana the seer, Morgana the mad, Morgana the witch, Morgana the brutal. Morgana the sorceress.

Not as she was, but as she is now - that is how she will be remembered. All the good she did forgotten like it had meant nothing to nobody. Like a sandcastle killed by the crushing orcas of the ocean waves. And there is a tragedy there. And he blames himself, he blames his own hate for what has become of her.

The darling girl he once met on the lakeshore is no more and he can see a reflection of himself in her steely eyes and he thinks that yes, she'd been right. Magic didn't make her who she is, he did.


	16. Love Consecrated the Land They Stood On

He didn't know what to do anymore. He, who had always been able to help with his books and his words and his guidance, could do nothing.

Merlin had never returned he'd waited for days until a weary Percival had returned with news of the kings death along with that of Gwaine's, when questioned about the king he would say nothing except that Merlin had told him.

When asked if Merlin was coming back Percival's eyes had dimmed even more - something that should have been impossible - and he'd replied that no, Merlin would not be back, that there was no Camelot for Merlin without Arthur. The way that young man had looked at him - he hadn't been surprised when Percival had left. Gwaine had been Percival's Arthur.

Camelot was not the same without Merlin, without Arthur, and everything was falling apart, a civil war between the people having broke out over magic between those that supported it and those who condemned it, it was quite clear that while Gwen was a good queen - the Camelot that once was - it was falling to ruin, and Gaius had no clue what to do.

Which is why he was summoningthe dragon, he had to know why - because this couldn't be the future that the prophecy spoke of. This couldn't be Albion, this couldn't be what they'd worked for for ever so long.

The dragon landed with a great thud on its haunches in front of him. Gaius startled before wincing at the sight, the creature looked - sick, scales dull and flaking, eyes tired and crusted, right wing bent at what must have been a painful angle.

It was far from the creature he remembered from their last encounter or even the ones before, it was as if something had gone out inside, like the light, the fire, had been out out and all that was left was an empty husk and cooling embers.

"You summoned me, physician?"

Gaius nodded.

"Why have you called upon me?"

Gaius breathed in and out and then closed his eyes, feeling as tired as the poor being in front of him looked and perhaps just as old.

"It's over, Arthur is dead, Merlin has disappeared into the mist. Is this how their destiny was supposed to unfold? Is this how it was always meant to be?"

The creature wilts. Sinking down to the ground with a low animalistic whine, before raising its great head to look Gaius straight in the face,blinking large eyes, it tilted its head, and began to speak.

"It - was unforeseen how it would end, there were many different paths that could have been taken, each hinging on a singular decision. This was not one of the better possible endings, but it was not the worst - you must remember that there are things that even fate, destiny, prophecy - cant foresee."

"What wasn't foreseen?"

"Loyalty. Friendship. Devotion. Love."

"Explain."

The dragon blinks before slowly dipping its head in what must have been acknowledgement before closing its great golden eyes and beginning.

"The Once and Future King and Emrys were foretold many a century before my dragon lord called me from my egg over a thousand years ago. Emrys - he was always meant to guide and protect the King. But he was never supposed to care for the king the way Merlin cared for Arthur.

It is my fault, I saw it, encouraged it even, because I was bitter from two decades of imprisonment. I thought it was justified. You must understand that Emrys was never supposed to grow attached. He needed to be able to stay objective in a way that couldn't be if their relationship extended beyond simple companionship."

The beast lowered its head to the ground.

"Camelot - Albion - should have flourished but its wilting now and there is nothing I, you, or anyone can do to stop it. For that, I am sorry. But there is hope still, physician."

"Hope? Everything they fought for, everything they held dear is in ruin, what kind of hope is there?"

"Hope for a better future. Tell me, physician, do you know why Merlin was called Emrys? Do you know why Arthur was called King Once and Future?

"No."

"I am old, physician, I have seen many things in my long life. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, entire species disappear from the face of the earth. I've seen things you could only dream of. But I have never seen something like what Arthur and Merlin had. Prophecy foretold they would meet, fate dictated how, destiny bound them together. But it is the true love they shared that must give us hope."

"Love?"

"It is - the most powerful of magic. What they share - it is something I have never seen before, they have something more ancient then the dragons. It is why we must have hope, together they can defeat anything, death, even time. Arthur is called the Once and Future King because he will return to Merlin's side, to complete their story."

Perhaps there is hope for Camelot, for Albion yet.

"I must get back, if he king is truly to return then we must find Merlin, he's evaded us so far but I know him and he wouldn't go far even if he never returns to Camelot, he must be found before Arthur returns, I - "

"You misunderstand me, physician. Arthur will return - but it will be centuries from now, perhaps thousands, it is not yet set in stone, but it will - most certainly, be after yours and my own death, perhaps even after the white dragons. It will be a different world than the one we know now. Magic will have almost faded from the earth and it will be up to Merlin and Arthur to bring it back."

"But Merlin -"

"Will be here, as he always has been."

Gaius is quiet, until he looks up his eyes sharp and sad and perhaps even a little pitying, and that is how Killigarah knows that he understands.

"Emrys - it means immortal. I had thought it only a title given to him by the Druids. I knew they regard him as their king but - I had thought that it was meant to say that he would be remembered. That he was important. But it's more than that isn't it?"

"Indeed."

Then quietly; "Does he know?"

"He suspects, he fears it, but he suspects it to be so."

"Oh, my poor boy - I wish - they will meet again at least? Yes? They will get a better ending? This will not repeat?"

"Time will have made them wise, separation make them fight harder to stay together, their love only deepening from afar over the ages. It will be different. They will succeed this time, i can feel it in my very bones."

Gaius smiled slightly at least they would have each other.

"I'm glad."


	17. And Know (I Will Return to You)

Merlin calls Arthur back two months and three weeks after he leaves.

He grabs the horn from the vaults in the middle of the night, sneaking through a still mourning city and he leaves, riding through the night, and he prays that Arthur will come – because Merlin doesn't know what he will do if he doesn't.

He'd tried to follow Arthur, but he – he just came back.

It terrified him.

He does not care for the consequences he needs Arthur. He hadn't realized how much his life revolved around the blonde man until he was gone, he hadn't known how much love he had held – he hadn't known, and their goodbye was to brief and Merlin –

He was scared; he needed to hear Arthur's voice, even if he revealed all the things that Merlin never wanted to hear.

He closes his eyes and presses his lips to the end and he blows.

He opens his eyes to a blinding light and he closes his eyes once more and then there is Arthur dressed in red and white, blonde and blue eyed and so painstakingly familiar that it hurts, he swallows and Arthur steps forward.

"Merlin – why have you - ? You need to go back."

Merlin swallows.

"No – I don't want – can't I just – "

Arthur's eyes soften and he steps forward wrapping his arms around Merlin's shoulders in the way Merlin can never remember him doing in life, he sees it then, Arthur's eyes are different, and they're calmer, more knowing, more at peace.

"Merlin, you can't stay here. You're not – dead."

Arthur steps back and Merlin hunches into himself, back bending, arms coming up to encircle himself in some bastardization of a hug, his head falling to his chest and his face crumbling.

"I want to be."

Arthur looks like Merlin physically struck him and that hurts more than anything.

"Merlin – why would you – you can't – ?"

And Merlin explodes.

"Because I don't know how to live without you!"

"Merlin – "

But Merlin won't be deterred, like this was some form of catharsis that he sorely needed.

"In my first week in Camelot I saved your life and then it's been like that ever since and I haven't stopped and – I don't – Gwaine is gone – and Gwen, she wants to be here for me but she looks at me like I'm the one that killed you, but she has Leon – and Gaius – he tries, I know he does, but he can't understand. I just – I'm lost, Arthur."

Arthur closes his eyes and breathes.

"Have you tried – "

Merlin crunches in on himself farther.

"Yes, ok. I have, and I keep coming back! Why can't I die?"

Arthur moves forward again but Merlin flinches away, retreating into himself even farther, and Arthur looks at the man. Merlin had lost weight, which frightened him because Merlin had never had any to lose; he was practically a walking stick, he looked exhausted. Arthur thought he had seen Merlin at his worst – but this was so – this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

He thought he would grieve, he hoped he would, because out of all the people in Arthur's life Merlin had been one of the ones he'd cared about the most, and he'd wanted someone to care about him that way – but Merlin had, had always, and he thought about poison and dragons and beasts and he knew Merlin cared.

But not this much, Merlin looked like something had broke inside of him, and the worst part was that Arthur knew that Merlin, while he may want death, could never have it. He wouldn't age, he would never die.

"Merlin - I 'm so sorry."

Merlin's face crumpled as if he'd lost any hope that he still had in that moment.

"Why?"

Arthur swallowed, Freya had told him much, but not how to explain to a heartsick warlock that he would never die because the world - magic - needed him more than it cared for the warlocks feelings, it would not matter if he was dead inside as long as he still walked the Earth helping magic and non magical people alike.

The only consolation he could offer was that Arthur himself would be back someday to stand by Merlin's side - because while the world had always known him as Emrys and nothing more, Emrys had always been just Merlin to him.

"Because the world needs you."

"I-I don't understand."

He sounds so impossibly young. Arthur sighs, he's not good at this - this feeling crap, that had always been Merlin's territory. Still -

"Because there will never be another like you, Merlin. The world could stand to lose me, it couldn't stand to lose you."

Merlin is quite for a moment before he straightens, arms falling to his sides, he breathes in and then out eyes opening into a wide eyes gaze, Arthur shifted because he knew this wasn't over, there was still more that Merlin needed to know.

"What am I supposed to do, Arthur? I -I built my life around you - saving you, caring for you, and now you're gone, and I just - magic is legal now but even that doesn't - I can study and practice all I want but when it comes down to it - my magic was for you."

Arthur swallows, what had he ever done that inspired this kind of loyalty - this kind of love - in Merlin?

"You go home to Camelot, and watch over our home. You find a hobby, you learn how to live without me."

"But Camelot doesn't feel like home to me anymore, Arthur."

The not without you, is not said but is felt only to deeply.

"Then don't. Go see your mother, travel - find a boat that will take you away from here, meet new people, do everything you ever wanted to do but couldn't. Find someone to love and that loves you in return, stay with them, start a family. Help people and for gods sake eat something!"

Merlin laughed.

"And know this, I will return to you."


End file.
